I'll swim Autumn's seas,
‘til my skin’s biting numb;
I'll leave behind the trees...
and what the world’s become.
I’ll say goodbye to family,
to friends and enemies;
I’ll put everything behind me...
‘til it’s me against the sea.
Let the city go.
It can rot for all I care.
Along with stuff that people bought,
from apathetic millionaires.
My arms will soon grow tired...
and ya, I'll probably sink.
But I'll be free from all defilers,
adrift in my utopic drink.
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